PDX Embassy Suites – First Stop

Posted on February 15, 2014 by Jerrie Cate

We finally made it to Portland at 1632 after a pretty grueling start to the day. For Diane the grueling part started out around 0130 when she thought the bit of chili she had for supper last night came back to torture her. She only slept, in the bed, for about two hours but reported that she lost two hours in the bathroom. She either shifted briefly to an alternate universe, or just flat went to sleep in there. She’s not sure. I just know I was up at the normal time for the dogs, then about 0800 she presented herself to me looking pretty rugged, hugging a hot water bottle to her tummy. It was one of those really sad moments where you want to hug them because they look pitiful, but you’re afraid to touch her because you know she might rip your arm off. I left her alone, followed her back to the bedroom, closed all the doors, and left her alone for a few hours. When she emerged the next time, she was fairly presentable and ready to face the day. Since we needed to be in Portland before dark, that was a good thing.

We both had packed our suitcases last night, so that was out of the way. My main challenge was to remember all of the charging cords needed for the electronically gizmos that must travel with us. Everywhere. So we can stay connected, you know?

We stopped by Mom’s house for a short visit on the way, then it was off to the church to participate in the quilt show tear-down. Since I hadn’t eaten all day I took advantage of the left overs and gorged on a very large container of Valerie’s special clam chowder. That and about 15 saltines. I carried it around so when people saw me they couldn’t ask me to do anything because my hands were full. I was really hungry.

Finally, everything was done. We just had to wait a little extra for Nancy to finish vacuuming. If she had been a little faster, we could have left a little earlier.

Jennifer drove us to Embassy Suites and bid us farewell. Upon entering the facility, we quickly discovered that our chosen place to stay was also the favorite place of pretty much every teen age basketball team in the Northwest. Kids with basketballs. Nice. And we have to get up at 0500. That’s just way too early for me, but it has to be done. The plane leaves at 0720 and it’s not going to wait.

First stop after checking in was the restaurant because Diane hadn’t eaten all day. It was time. She ordered a 14 oz rib eye steak. That was good for her but meant I was limited to a cheap pizza because of budgetary constraints. A 14 oz steak, of any kind, was way too big for Diane, but she did some serious damage to it, making me proud. The pizza, for me, was perfect because of all the clam chowder I’d eaten just moments before. It was really great, too. Good pizza. The other half of the rib eye was pretty good, too. I was amazed at how much I was able to eat and still be able to stand up.

I did, however, and waddled up to the room where I am currently sitting on the couch waiting until an appropriate time to go to bed.

Like now. Tomorrow I will be talking from Waikaloa.

Hearts, Haircuts, Quilt Shows & Computers

Posted on February 15, 2014 by Jerrie Cate

As I sit here, on the verge of yet another adventure, I’m compelled to rid my brain of events from the past few days. The adventure, BTW, is a trip to the Big Island.

When I do this “stuff”, I try to do it in chronological order, because that’s how events should be reported. That doesn’t always work out, however, when the one reporting has a faulty memory module. Thankfully, I have a calendar into which I enter all pertinent data that I’m sure all of you are sitting on the edge of your seats, chomping at the bit, to hear about them.

The calendar works great, when I remember to enter the info. When I don’t, then it’s a crapshoot as to what you may see here.

So, I have my calendar up and here’s what I see …

Wednesday, February 12th, was Lincoln’s birthday, and the day Diane normally submits her Avon order. We don’t typically celebrate Lincoln’s birthday, and didn’t this time, either, but Diane orders Avon products every Wednesday. Without fail. She has a room full of it.

This was the day when I also got connected with my new Cardiac Event Monitor (CLEM). I know, there’s no “L” in it, but I wanted it to sound like a name, you know? So, now it’s Clem. It’s a nifty little device that I wear on my belt, like a phone but smaller, and it has three leads that snap on to those little round patches they use for EKGs and such. I put one each just under each clavicle, and the third goes under my left breast. I suppose you are surprised to learn I have a left breast since I am, I think, entirely male. However, since I heard that men can also get breast cancer, I’ve decided that’s what I need to call them. Also, the old I get, the more tempting it is to start wearing a sports bra.

With Clem properly connected, the device periodically flashes a very bright green light. Since I’m forced to wear it 24/7 for the next month, the light revealed a point of contention between my need to wear it and Diane’s need to sleep. After the first night she reported that the blinking “lasered” her eyeballs all night long. Thereafter, I ensured the device was tucked under the covers.

Associated with this device is another device that looks suspiciously like a smart phone. Indeed, it’s connected via AT&T to a monitoring facility somewhere in the world where concerned techs keep an eye on things and ensure users are doing OK. That was my understanding, anyway. To test it, I switch the wires around once in a while to see if anyone’s watching. So far I’ve not received any phone calls to ask me what’s going on so apparently I’m either using a placebo device, or no one really cares. I’ve been assured, however, that they will definitely care if I don’t return all the devices to them in 30 days. To the tune of about $2500. This tells me they are at least keeping track of who the device was issued to. The upshot of all this is that everywhere I go, I blink. It’s especially entertaining at night, walking around in our unlit front yard, when I take the dogs out.

Oh ya! My doctor wanted me to get the monitor to see if they could associate my brief dizzy spells to cardiac events, not because I’m having a heart attack. I am, however, in the zone for things like that because I’m terrible about what I eat, and don’t eat, so it’s not out of the realm of possibility. At the last office visit, where she prescribed the monitor, she also told me she wanted a daily log of my blood pressure at our next visit. I’ll tell you about that a little later down the page.

Wednesday was also a day to visit my new physical therapist for an evaluation. As many of you may remember, Diane and I spent a lot of time on the road visiting the VA Hospital, on Pill Hill, in Portland, for PT but the final determination was that my right shoulder, though it hurts, doesn’t really have a problem. It’s muscular. I left that round of therapy thinking I was just going to have to deal with it the rest of my pitiful life, like I do the other pains I have. It doesn’t hurt unless I move it certain ways, so I just don’t move it “that” way. Simple. But, my doctor asked about it, and I had to tell her, so she referred me to a local PT shop. At least it’s not a 80 mile round trip to get it done.

The evaluation determined that my Long Biceps Tendon, and my Supraspinatuas Tendon are rubbing against the Coracoid process. I could take that to mean I may not have a Bursa in my right shoulder, but that wasn’t mentioned. Since it’s not fatal, I will proceed with the new set of exercises and see how things go. I like the new PT guy a lot because he’s got “Dr.” in front of his name and the exercise picture he gave me is of a real person, not a stick figure. That’s quality in my book. So, there’s hope.

Thursday, February 15th, was my normal day for coffee with the MELCA guys. MELCA, for the uninitiated, is Men of the Evangelical Church of America. It isn’t a real group, except for us, because Larry L felt the need to have something to do when the WELCA ladies do “stuff.” We visit at the Kozy Korner, drinking coffee, harassing the waitresses, and solving pretty much all of the world’s problems. It’s fulfilling. Sadly, no one listens to our solutions, except the table full of catholic nuns who also meet on Thursday mornings. We know they listen because they look sideways at us sometimes.

On this day I was late because I paid a visit to my barber who, you may remember, was absent all last week due to a family emergency. Indeed it was. His 84-year-old Mother passed away due to complications from bone cancer. He’s really good at explaining everything. Turns out that all old people, who do not die outright from an affliction, like a heart attack, usually succumb to pneumonia because of the way the body reacts to everything that’s going on with whatever disease they have. So, his Mom didn’t pass directly because of the bone cancer, but because of the complications it caused with her body chemistry. This is good to know, and a really good reason to keep your breathing apparatus in good working order, like, by not smoking.

When I showed up for coffee, just about the time everyone was ready to leave, they all got refills and stuck around for another round of discussion.

Friday, February 14th, of course, was Valentine’s Day. I heard some guy on the radio station I listen to say that Valentine’s Day is a celebration to point out all of those who do not have a significant other, or words to that effect. Kind of self-centered, and not at all in alignment with all those retailers selling candy to anyone who buys it with the hope of making points with pretty much anyone. I take it this person has never tried that and, instead, chose to view it as a direct insult to the fact that he wasn’t attached somehow. I bet he has a dog, though.

Diane and I don’t celebrate days like this any more because candy tends to rot our remaining teeth. We don’t even get cards for each other. However, since this day was also the first day of the 34th Annual Bethany Quilt Show, and Diane is President of the WELCA group, she spent all day at the church while I just ran willy nilly around town.

Friday was also the two-week follow with my doctor. I printed out my BP chart from the free app I downloaded to my iPad, and presented it to her thinking it was not good. Turns out my BP goal is to keep it below 140/90, which I managed to do almost all the time. It’s always good to visit my doctor because it affords me a chance to say “Hi” to Kristin, my daughter’s, Jennifer’s, sister-in-law. I think that qualifies her as my semi-daughter-in-law. Either way, she’s family and it’s always fun to see her smiley face.

After my appointment, I stopped at Walgreens and purchased some Valentine Peeps for Diane and delivered them to her at church. She loves peeps, especially the little yellow chicken ones at Easter. I also got her two Butterfinger candy bars. The big ones. I knew Walgreens had them because Jack got some for Wynette from there. Walgreens is right next to ACE where Jack works most of the time.

I didn’t get anything … but that’s OK. Really, it is.

While I was at church I made an effort to resolve the issue that’s keeping the office computer from connecting to the internet. There were actually two problems – one with the computer, and one with the DSL modem. I talked with the CenturyLink tech for a while and convinced him we needed a new one. It’s going to arrive Monday, but that’s Washington’s, and Shene’s birthday, so it may not show up until Tuesday. Shene will be 21. I don’t know how old Washington will be. Really old, for sure.

That brings us to …

Saturday, February 15th, the day we fly away to Hawaii. It’s almost 1230 now, and about time to get packed. Jennifer is taking us to the airport where we will spend the evening at Embassy Suites. We’ll catch the shuttle from there to the airport in the morning for our 0700, or something, flight to Kona.

I may add more later, I may not, but I will keep every abreast of our activities over the next week. If it interests you, please read. If it’s boring, share it with someone with whom you have a grudge to settle. That’ll teach ’em to mess with you.

It’s raining here, and may be raining in Hawaii, but who cares? Now I have to go finishing packing.

I’ll leave you with some photos of the quilt show and some of the folks who made it work …

This is Nancy …

Barb & Pat …

My lovely Valentine, Diane …

… and the cooks, Valerie & Mary …

Hoover Dam, New Blance, & Nike

Posted on February 10, 2014 by Jerrie Cate

Today I received confirmation that alternate universes do, indeed, exist because I was transported to one of them. In the universe to which I was accustomed, my, and Jack’s, big brother, Jimmie, friended me on Facebook. I believe I mentioned him at points in the past. Remember? He’s the anal one. I know, that sounds bad, but it really isn’t. He just has to have everything, I mean EVERYTHING, neat and tidy. Even the rusty things he has are neat. Plus, he’s the only person I know, in any universe, who can watch TV like this …

Here’s what he looks like standing on the westbound side of Highway 93 on the Pat Tillman Bridge overlooking the Hoover Dam. But, he has sun glasses on so you can’t really tell if his eyes are open or not … you’ll notice, too, that he’s wearing a Scappoose hat. Yes, it does exist.

So, here’s Jim, who only recently discovered that computers had to be turned on to function, they don’t just come on when you enter a room, exposing himself to the world of Facebook. In a million years I never thought that would happen. Donna has been trying to get him more involved with the computer for many years so she wouldn’t have to repeat emails to him, and such. Until now, he’s resisted successfully. Apparently she finally got out the old cattle prod and convinced him sleep would be difficult if he didn’t take that giant step into the present century. For that, I’m proud of them both – Donna for her perseverance, and Jim for finally bending a little. Welcome to the electronic world. I can say that, directly to him, since I’m guessing he’ll be reading this. I am proud of him, too. Good onya, Jimmie!

Now, about sneakers. Specifically, New Balance and Nike kinds of sneakers. This part is for Susan who shared a great photo of her new NB sneakers on Facebook indicating they were the replacements for those she obtained in 2010. She’s been working them hard, getting into shape, and she absolutely wears me out with all the exercisy-type things she’s doing every day. She has the voice of an angel. I’m proud of her, but this is about sneakers and feel compelled to share a picture of my new sneakers that Diane insisted I needed.

She gave them to me for Christmas because she knows I’ll never get them on my own. They are so incredibly comfortable that she got another pair. Now I have two pair! The new ones replaced a pair of Nike Airs that I’ve had for approximately 20 years. They’ve been worn out for a long time, but they seemed to be comfortable to me. I guess that’s true because I just didn’t know any better. Here’s what they look like …

The old brown ones have been good to me over the years but it’s time to let them go. Still, they will make good work shoes, I think. I’m going to keep them.

The new ones, as I stated, are extremely comfortable. For me that’s pertty easy because I’m not a runner. I just walk. That’s why the old ones have lasted such a long time. They haven’t run anywhere. Ever. The new ones aren’t going to run, either. Unless something scares me.

Here’s one pair of them …

… and here’s the other pair …

They are exactly the same, but different.

I figure it doesn’t matter what color I wear so I just make sure I have one right and one left. Lydia approves, I’m sure, because she does the same thing, with socks. In her world it’s wrong to wear matching socks.

Maybe I’m starting a new fad with shoes.

Maybe not.

Urine & Mean Drivers

Posted on January 18, 2014 by Jerrie Cate

Yesterday I went to the local dialysis clinic to see my Kidneyologist. It was just a followup to check on a diagnosis I received many years ago about my kidneys and how they were behaving badly at that time. I had teeny, microscopic little bits of blood in my urine and it was deemed to be a bad thing. So, I’ve been taking blood pressure meds for the last 15 years, or so, to help deter the blood leakage.

Sadly, the meds don’t help with urine leakage but I don’t mind. Diane might, but I don’t.

My kidney guy is Dr. Smiley and I really liked him. He sent me to the lab for a urine test which I passed with flying colors. I didn’t spill even one drop! I was directed to place it on a table in the lab, which I did, but not before getting the attention of the young lady who gave me the bottle and those directions. When she noticed me, I held up the little bottle, said “cheers,” put it down and walked off. She nodded knowingly.

Thinking about urine makes me wonder how pretty much everyone in the world knows that it’s very salty. Why is that?

Next, I’d like to address all of you who find it necessary to drive in the fast lane, all the time. In Oregon there is an un-enforced law that everyone must drive to the right unless they are going to pass. Lots of people don’t do that, of course, and in our small corner of the world it poses a problem.

Highway 30 is a nice 4-lane road all the way from Portland thru Columbia City. That’s about a 30 mile stretch of road on to which many, many people must make a left turn in order to get where they wish to go. There’s a chicken lane in the middle that helps facilitate the turn, but the fast lane drivers create a situation where left turners must stop and wait for an opening. Most of the time the slow lane is open, no one in it, but these folks just don’t see a need to move over, to be a courteous driver, allowing left turners to merge. Nope, they just edge a little closer to the chicken lane as if daring drivers to edge into “their” lane.

I bring that up because it happened this evening. This time it was a large, gray-fuzzy-haired woman, but we’ve seen all kinds. Mostly, they are young, and don’t care. Diane and I always drive right to ensure we don’t impede those who need to turn. But, then, we’re special.

Those of you who live in high density areas may not see the problem since you have divided highways and traffic lights for cross roads all over the place. That’s not true, here. Much of that 30 mile stretch is through countryside, past farms and such. So, it’s a crap shoot to make a left turn. Sometimes it’s pretty exciting, especially when you’re the passenger, as I always am, and prone to be at the point of first contact should a collision occur.

Jack and Wynette know exactly what I mean. In order to access Highway 30 coming from their house, the traffic gods must all be in accord to afford them an opportunity to cross both the southbound and northbound lanes. Actually, it’s eastbound and westbound, but when you look at a map it’s really north and south. It doesn’t really turn west until you get to Rainier.

OK. That’s all I’ve got. Now I must go eat the weenie Diane heated up for me. In the microwave. I got soup, too.

Airline Delays, Wood, and H1N1

Posted on January 7, 2014 by Jerrie Cate

OK, I get it that folks might be a little upset about flight delays. I get it that many travelers might have a critical need to arrive at their intended destination at the scheduled time. I get it. The networks love it because I think it gives reporters something to do besides go outside and point out it’s snowing, or raining, or windy. I love when they do that, stick the reporter with the short straw on a hill, next to a freeway, and have them explain what the white stuff is that’s landing on the roads and the danger of not being careful while driving in it.

What I don’t get is those passengers who get all upset with the airlines for cancelling their flight and not getting them another one in its place. It’s like they’re blaming the airline for the crappy weather. Then there are those who must think their planes fly around everywhere else, so why not fly when it’s 50 below.

No thanks. Not me. I’ll take a bus.

The foregoing, incidentally, is pure conjecture by me. I have no basis in fact for any of it other than what I see and hear on ABC, CBS, NBC, and FOX. All the noise I hear from those stations is consistently the same so at least some of it must be correct with regard to how travelers are playing the “woe is me” card.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not insensitive to their dilemma because I’ve been in it myself. Delayed flights. Rerouted flights. Cancelled flights. It’s just one of those things people should expect when traveling in the ice age. Plan for delays and deal with it. If you make your destination on time, and your luggage arrives at the same time, it’s a good day.

Bottom line on this is that the extraordinarily cold weather isn’t something that can be planned for. Entire cities have shut down because of the cold so I don’t see a problem with airlines doing the same in the name of safety.

Sorry – I meant to touch on that briefly then move on to something else, but the latter got lost in the melee in my head. That, and the ringing in my ears. Both are a bit distracting, making concentration necessary, something I’m normally not very good at. If I have to think about doing something, or how to do something, I’ll usually get it wrong. I do best what I do impulsively, without thought. Granted, impulsive behaviour has placed me in pits of peril more than once, and hindsight always points out the faults with decisions made under those circumstances, but in the heat of the moment, it’s exciting. Kind of an auction mentality where you buy things you really don’t need, or want, because you just can’t keep your hand down.

For the past two days I’ve been installing baseboards. It’s something I’ve been meaning to do for the past 5 years. Baseboards needed to be installed for two reasons: 1) to fill the gaps created when the baseboard heaters were removed, and 2) Diane scrunched her eyes and convinced me it would be a good choice of projects while it’s cold.

Yesterday, I worked in the garage, cutting pieces to length and getting the mitres just right. Since all of yesterday’s work had outside mitres, it wasn’t a big deal. It’s just a simple matter of make two 45 degree cuts, on the correct end of the boards, and shoe moulding, then make them match at the corners. Simple, right? I have to admit that it’s far easier with my cutoff saw than with a manual mitre saw. With the cutoff saw I can come up with a solution much quicker, although it also makes it easier to whittle my way through a pile of wood quicker, too. Here’s some of yesterday’s efforts, the hall to the East Wing …

I did the entire hallway which included 5 outside corners, and 5 doors. One of the doors is for Diane’s shoe closet. One of these days I might do a post on that.

Today was a bit different because I had to deal with inside miters and chose not to. Instead, I coped the corners because doing so makes them much neater. No 45’s to deal with. I’m not taking a picture of that, yet for two reasons: 1) it’s not finished, and 2) I don’t want to. Yet.

What makes this project particularly difficult is that the existing baseboard is mahogany that was installed in 1957. I’ve tried to acquire more of it, but no one sells it in the dimensions I need to match them up. So, I gathered what I had and pieced them together to fill the gaps in our bedroom, the front hall, and the dining area, but there won’t be enough to do the living room. And, there wasn’t enough to do the hall so I used what I could get from Home Depot that was smaller, but had the same profile. Now all I have to do is engineer it avoid situations where I need to match up old with new because it won’t work.

Our thoughts are with family and friends in the east who are dealing directly with the reality of this Arctic vortex we’re experiencing. We are blessed in our little town because all the bad stuff is just blowing over the top of us. So far. Things can change quickly, however, so we have a plan B should that happen. I don’t know what it is, but we have one somewhere.

Now, about that flu … Oregon has been relatively flu free until recently, but the H1N1 has struck close to home. A good friend, Jeff, is in intensive care at the VA Hospital with pneumonia and H1N1 virus. Diane and I got our flu shots in October when they were first available and, so far, have escaped the bug. We tend to stay home, away from large groups, when this stuff is going around, finding it increases our chances of escaping without catching anything.

Bundle up.

Panzee, The Hot Tub Project, & Other Things

Posted on December 9, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

I’m learning something new so I will have something to fall back on when I finally retire. Again. It’s fixing hot tubs. I figured since Don got me through an engine tune up with the old truck, I gained enough mechanical experience to fix pretty much anything. So, I removed one of the pumps from our hot tub to see if I could figure out what was making it sound so bad. It used to be just fine but late last summer it started making kind of grinding-squeeling noise, and it would not kick over on low-speed during the start-up process. It just hummed, and quit, hummed and quit, hummed and quit, etcetera.

Since the weather was hot back then, I just disconnected the power and set it aside. Now that it’s terribly cold out, Diane reminded me how much she likes the hot tub and how nice it would be if it worked like it’s supposed to. I could only agree, so pulled the pump I thought was making the noise, and tore it apart after a bit of internet research. I still find it amazing how much information is available out there about anything you want to know. Very specific information, too. I just love the internet.

I took a bunch of pictures in my shop but none when I had the pump motor in pieces so you’ll just have to get your photo fix with this one. It’s just a bunch of license plates I removed from various vehicles we have owned over the years. What’s missing are the ones from Okinawa, and one from Rome, Italy and Florida. When we moved from Okinawa in 1970 we went to Rome and shipped a 1965 Thunderbird Landau. When we licensed it we had to turn in the Okinawa plates for AFI ones. That’s for “Allied Forces Italy”. Since we didn’t ship the car home, we didn’t get the Italian plates. Then we moved to Florida, then to Guam where we had to turn in the Florida pates. While in Italy, it became fashionable to firebomb cars with AFI plates because the bombers thought they stood for American Forces Italy. Consequently, many cars were destroyed that belonged to many other countries. This was during the Nixon era, 1970-1973.

Anyway, here’s that photo with the missing plates …

I’ll also throw in one of the pump, even though you can’t see much of the pump except the end that has the little spinny thing on it that flings water through the pipes. That other gray piece is the spinny thing cover.

Once I got it all apart, I couldn’t find anything wrong with the bearings, and there was nothing interfering with the spinny thing, which is really the impeller. See, I really knew what it was.

Now, here’s one for all you folks who have really neat shops. My work bench is covered with “stuff”. Lots of it. And I can find things when I need them. Diane can’t. So, she doesn’t even bother to look most of the time.

The floor is pretty well covered, too.

Honestly, every horizontal surface has ‘something’ on it so when I want to do anything, I have to move things. Naturally, when I move stuff, it’s to the next place I want to work so I have to move it all over again. I keep telling myself that I’m going to devote a day … OK, two days to a clean up project and remove anything I haven’t used in six years. I’ve actually done that once. Put everything I didn’t need in boxes, then set them aside, admiring my handy work. It was good to have a clear work bench, something I’ve only enjoyed when moving to a different house. Then, years down the road, I need something and guess what? Yup. It was in that box I filled with things I didn’t need. I’m really glad I didn’t give it away.

I have another motivation for cleaning up the shop. The work bench is too high and needs to be lowered. When I was younger, in my 50’s, I was taller and it wasn’t a problem. Now that I’ve begun to shrink I find it more difficult to with my arms sticking straight out in front of me. So, I’m going to lower it to counter top height.

Maybe lower.

To a level I can work at while sitting in a comfortable chair.

Then I’m going to start a new hobby.

It’s called, “Put Stuff Back From Whence It Came”.

I think I’ll get bored with that one pretty quick, like I usually do, so the best option would be to just give all my tools to Jeff and Daniel, then borrow what I need when I need it.

Now, about Panzee. We visited her PCP this afternoon and she was given the sad news that everything looked pretty good but to keep it that way she will need to wear the Cone of Shame for the rest of her life. Since she really doesn’t know a lot of English words, she took the news well. That, and because the doc gave her a treat.

Actually, she’ll only have to wear it for the remainder of the year. By then I suspect she’ll have a bald ring around her neck, and all the moulding around our doors is going to be all nicked and dinged from her running in to them. She used to be careful but she’s discovered the cone will give if you hit things hard enough so she just powers through whatever she hits.

My concern about all that neck jamming is she’s going to need months of chiropractic therapy to fix it. We’ll have to get a referral.

Good News and Other Stuff !

Posted on November 24, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

Either the Secret Service didn’t think my question for Senator Merkley warranted their attention, or the Senator hasn’t read his email, yet. Or, maybe it was just viewed as a routine question that will never receive a response. That’s probably it.

Here’s another ho-hum sunrise from yesterday …

Later in the day some local folks cruised by on their horses which ignited the dogs into a flurry of barking, so we unleashed them. The riders came to the fence to make it less of a mystery for them. The barking stopped, and everyone went on their way, with a wave of good cheer. The horse folks were back again this morning, but the dogs didn’t notice so I guess it worked.

The rest of today was pretty typical. You know, church, then took Grams Jean for a ride to Longview where we had a festive lunch of salad, dead chicken, and ice cream at our favorite Sizzler. Diane said the vegetable soup was good, too, but neither Grams nor I had it so we only have Diane’s word for that. I can say, however, that it looked good, but I had already eaten three dead chicken legs from some incredibly large chickens. I don’t know if they are naturally huge, or if the chicken growers force them to work out with little weights in a private Gold’s Gym established especially for animals with no arms and/or opposable thumbs. Hard to tell.

After lunch Diane took us on a whirlwind trip of Upper Longview, a place none of us have ever been. It was both entertaining and enlightening for some odd reason. Diane and her Mom talked the entire time, throwing random questions to me, which I answered without hesitation even though I was playing with my iPad the entire time. Whoever said “men can’t multi-task”, which is probably most of the women in America, just doesn’t know me, I guess. Either that, or I was mistaken in my belief that I was multi-tasking when, in fact, I was actually switching rapidly from one reality to another, participating wholly in both, at separate times on a quantum level. I was apparently switching back and forth in my thought processes that none of us knew it. It was pretty amazing, really. Sitting here, thinking about it, I still find it hard to believe, like it’s not real, or something. Ya know?

This afternoon, after arriving home, Diane found some unused candy in a rarely opened cookie jar. Thinking ahead to next Halloween, she decided to wash it to remove the fingerprints of previous owners.

Here’s proof …

I’m glad I don’t eat that kind of stuff any more

Doctors, Showers, Bunco, and Sunsets

Posted on October 28, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

Monday, my most favorite day of the week … it was a bright sunny one, too, making it even better. And, it was cold. But I wore shorts anyway.

This morning I had a doctor appointment, here in town, just because I haven’t seen a local doctor for almost a year and there is a Oregon law that requires all citizens to do that, or else! So, even though I’ve been adequately cared for by the VA for all that time, I must adhere to Oregon Law or else move to Canada. It’s a rule. Another reason I had to see my local doctor is because she prescribes me meds the VA can’t. That’s actually a better reason than obeying the fictitious Oregon law.

The appointment was at 11:20 am so I had a couple of hours to kill after waking up from my nap. Knowing I’d have to wash my entire body before going to the doctor, I just left my jammies on and got to work on an inside project. This morning that was adding the moulding around the opening between the kitchen and dining areas which has been mould-less for 8 years. I’ve had the wood in the basement all this time, but it just never got to be all that important until this morning. That’s because the Bunco Babes were descending on our home and Diane was ready for them to see that I actually did things around here. At least once in a while. So, I did it. I actually cut the trim yesterday, but had to make an adjustment to the width of the opening , making it an inch narrower, so I wouldn’t have to rip the pieces that go on either side of the external wall part. I know. That doesn’t make a lot of sense, but that’s the way it is. The trim is 2.5 inches wide, and the area, on the outside wall, was only 1.75 inches wide. In order for me to avoid ripping off an inch of the trim, allowing for a 1/4 inch reveal, I decided to add an inch to the surface area around which the trim would be placed. That made it 2.75 inches, just enough for my 1/4 inch reveal. Clear as radar, right? Me too. I took a lot of thinking for me to get it all straight in my head, and to get the pieces all cut with a decent mitre so they wouldn’t look too bad from a distance. The mitres are near the ceiling so accuracy isn’t as crucial as it normally would be. Like, if it was closer to eye level, like a cabinet or something.

After getting that partially done I ran to my bathroom and got myself all wet and shiny, added some soap, bubbled up, and scrubbed my underwear really good. We have a new rule in the house, for me, that all showers will be conducted while wearing underwear in order to cut down on the amount of laundry Diane has to do. It works OK, but I can never get all the soap out of them and they dry a little bit stiff, making them more than a little uncomfortable after wearing them for a few hours. So, I’ve adopted a commando attitude and decided to not wear underwear unless directed to do so. When doing so, I also wear outerwear that do not have zippers. I’ve never discussed it before, but there have been zipper injuries in my past. They are absolutely brutal for the victim, and just hysterical for whoever draws the short straw and has to undo the zipper because the victim can’t. Simply stated, it’s a very agonizing way to perform a circumcision, even for those who have already had one. Enough said …

When the shower was done, I rushed out of the house and down the hill to the doctor’s office. I arrived at 11:15 am, as directed, got checked in, then sat in the waiting room, reading my book, for the next hour and 15 minutes. The lady sitting across from me, with the cast, had an 11:25 appointment. Finally, an attendant appeared and called my name. I jumped up and followed her to the scale, got weighed, then went to the designated room. The first question they asked was if I was still using albuterol. Since I’ve never used albuterol, in any form, I said, “no.”

This caused a bit if concern for the medical assistant, one of which was in either in training, or was doing an internship, so they asked for my birthday. I gave it, then they figured out that I was the wrong Jerold. It was the other Jerold they wanted. So, back to the waiting room I went, for another 10 minutes.

Then a different sort of medical gal called my name and, knowing I was the only Jerold in the waiting room, I acknowledged and followed her to the scale where I was weighed and measured. I’ve compressed 2 complete inches since 1975. I’m only 5’9″ now. Might have to start hanging by my knees from the tree out front, I guess.

When the weights and measure were satisfied, I was taken to a different room where my blood pressure was taken and I was told it was a bit high. I was asked a lot of personal questions, which I answered truthfully, then I was left alone for another 15-20 minutes before the doctor appeared.

She entered the room with Molly, a scribe, and didn’t look at me until I stood and offered her my hand. Even at a lowly 5’9″ I was taller by far.

The doctor sat down at the wall-mounted computer, and Molly came equipped with a big Dell laptop, and a chair. Together, they began entering all my personal data, as well as most of the data contained in my paper chart, which they just happened to have, even though just last week I was told I was not listed as one of their patients. That’s the reason I had the appointment, so I could clear that up, and get a scrip refilled. In all, I was in the room with the doctor, and Molly, for about 30-45 minutes. That’s about the longest I’ve ever been in the same room with a doctor for an appointment. Usually, they ask a couple of questions, then let one of their minions finish up. The exception is the nazi doctor at the VA who gave me my last nerve conduction test using large hypodermic needle with wires attached to his oscilloscope. He enjoyed his work a bit too much, I believe. I’m sure I heard him take a deep breath, and shudder, as he stabbed me with one of those needles.

I have a rash on my back, which the doctor checked. I obtained it in Mexico, I think, from little tiny ants that frequented the chaise lounges by the pool in which we spent most of our time. Now I learn that it’s possibly shingles, for which I had my shot after we got back from Mexico. So, I’m in flux, wondering what my lab test for varicella zoster IGG, IGM will reveal.

Upon returning from the doctor I was met by an angry grandma who wanted to know what took me so long at the doctor. Then she ran off to get Jeran from school because he was sick. When she returned she was still mad at me, even though I finished putting up the trim. Now all it needs is paint. Lots of paint.

After finishing my project, we shared a can of chicken noodle soup, then I took off for my board meeting with our Lions Club. For some reason I’m 1st or 2nd Vice President. I’m still a little mystified as to how that happened because I don’t remember campaigning. I was probably voted into that spot during one of the many meetings I’ve missed. That’s usually when stuff like that happens, when you miss a meeting, or three.

The meeting was over in 40 minutes. When I returned home the only place I could park was in the front yard. There were cars everywhere. Apparently the Bunco Babes don’t car pool often. When I entered the house, early, I made sure to get everyone’s attention and proclaimed loudly that, “the party’s over! Everyone out!” It got quiet for about 3 seconds, then everyone went back to what they were doing. They always do that. There are 12 ladies and they do this once a month so Diane only has to do it once a year, since they rotate that responsibility. They all know the routine, but still they give me their attention when I proclaim … the only difference is that the time between getting their attention and them ignoring me gets shorter each time. Next year they will probably ignore me totally. I’m used to that, however, and will proclaim anyway. While they are rolling their noisy dice and ringing their bell.

I must admit, that they have a lot of fun. It’s good for Diane to have this social diversion, and it’s a good way to get rid of all the wine we don’t like, or that has been sitting around open for too long. We start them off with the good stuff, then infiltrate it with the bad about half way through the game. Works like a charm. I think they do that in bars, too.

Lydia was sitting at Diane’s computer working on her homework when I got home, so I sat in the Man Room to keep her on track. That, and I wasn’t allowed anywhere else in the house BUT the Man Room. So, it worked out. Lydia needed a little computer help, too, which I’m always more than happy to provide. Sometimes I provide it even when people don’t want it. Tonight, it was needed. Lydia had to write an essay and create a PowerPoint presentation to go with it. Since she had never used PowerPoint, it was a bit of a challenge. Luckily, I’m a semi-expert with software people don’t understand and was able to boost her in the right direction. Though she stumbled, and griped about how boring it was then entire time, she was extremely proud of the results. So, mission accomplished.

Now the din has ceased because everyone left except Diane. She’s almost done cleaning up, and I’m done with this.

So, it’s bed time.

First, however, I must share last night’s sunset view.

This is mainly to show Jewel that we get to see some of the pretty ones before she does from her perch on slopes of Mauna Loa which is, according to Wikipedia, the largest volcano on Earth. Nifty. Makes me want to move there. Really, it does. Though it’s the biggest, it’s lava is silica-poor making it very fluid which is a more appropriate way to say this volcano has the runs. It’s making the island bigger all the time and it’s amazing to see. While we lived in Hawaii, in the 80’s, we were always getting news of houses being consumed by flowing lava running down the mountain side. The slope is gentle so everyone has plenty of time to get out of the way, When we visited the island we were able to walk on the newly cooled lava and see the remains of cars and homes that it had captured on its journey to the sea. It’s worth a look.

Here’s what that very same sunset looks like by the time it gets to Jewel …

Home Sweet Home

Posted on October 8, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

OK – we’re back!

Got home last night after 2300, and actually made it to bed before midnight. The dogs seemed happy to see us which is good because we weren’t sure what kind of reception we’d get. Sometimes they can be down right mean when they want to be. Not mean in a physical way, but more mental, like ignoring you, or looking out the side of their face at you without actually turning their head in your direction. It’s very disconcerting when they do that. Ozzie does it best. But not last night. He was a happy little dog.

Perhaps he was most happy because when we got to LA, Diane texted Jennifer and asked her to please turn the heat back on in the house. It was off the entire time we were gone and I think Oz got chilly. Panzee? No way. She has fur to spare so she just doesn’t get cold. Ever. She doesn’t even get very wet when it rains. I think she may have duck feathers scattered in amongst the fur somewhere.

Sleeping in this morning wasn’t an option because I Diane forced me to go with her to the VA to get my flu and shingles shots – one in each arm. It’s been 7 hours since I got the shots and now my little skinny arms really hurt. Fortunately, I had the flu shot in my left arm because it hurts the worse than the shingles shot. The reason is because the flu shot had to be in the muscle, but shingles is subdural. That simply means the flu shot needle has to be, like, 3 inches long in order to get past the layer of fat on my arm, but the shingles was only about half an inch long. There actually isn’t a lot of fat on my upper arm, and there isn’t very much muscle either, so the nurse, Beauty is her name, had to go at an angle to ensure she could get the entire needle into my arm. Then she hit the plunger and pressed it as hard as she could. I could tell because she was gritting her teeth. It kinda makes you forget about the needle pain when the medicine squirts out of that tiny little needle hole into a space that’s just not big enough for the syringe contents. That’s why she had to grit her teeth, to get the medicine to rip into my muscle fibers.

For the singles shot Beauty grabbed a chunk of that flabby area on the back of my arm, where there isn’t any muscle, pinched it up to make a good target, then jammed that little short needle into my tender skin and forced the shingles killer stuff into my arm causing the same problem as with the other shot – not enough room for the syringe contents.

Now that it’s been a few hours, you’ll be happy to know that both arms hurt about the same since the shots. The “fortunate” part about getting the one that hurts the most in my left arm is that my right arm hurts all the time any way, so now they hurt about the same. It hurts to use either of them so there’s no immediate danger of favoring the right arm over the left. Maybe in a few days I can switch back to that routine.

Tonight I must facilitate our church council meeting, as I do every month. So, there is no resting this evening until I return around 2030. I might have to go a little early, with my propane torch, so I can seal up a leaky part above the narthex. As everyone knows, there’s absolutely nothing worse than a leak in your narthex. It’s very unsettling, and makes the carpet all wet unless you can get the buckets aligned just right. Since he leak is right smack in the middle of the doorway to the basement, getting around the drips becomes a challenge for those who wish to partake of after service snacks. And coffee. It’s a Lutheran church, so coffee is an absolute necessity. I say that, then must share that our Pastor does not drink coffee. Never has as far as I know. All the other Lutheran’s in the world, however, drink coffee. Just ask one of them.

I need to rest now because my arms hurt, and I’m hungry. I believe I’ll go smash a few eggs and make a sandwich. That’s one of the things we missed while in Mexico. I know, they have eggs down there, but we didn’t want to eat theirs and we didn’t think it would be a good idea to pack eggs in the food suitcase. Diane was really thinking when packing for the trip home because she knew we didn’t have any bread in the house, so she packed the few remaining pieces of the loaf of Bimbo bread we bought in Mexico. We’re not sure if we violated any immigration laws by importing bread from Mexico, but no one said anything. Hope they’re not reading this. If they are, I know a lawyer who may, or may not, be able to help extricate me from whatever jail into which “they” decide to incarcerate me.

Perhaps I should start a fund …

To end this, I’m including a couple of pictures from the trip. The first one was taken while we were waiting for the airport shuttle to arrive. The shuttle, by the way, was a very nice tour bus instead of a crampy little van like we had the day we arrived.

This next one is two of the 4 ‘greeters’ we met each morning when heading for the stairs or elevator. The rest of their families is scattered all over the place. They really aren’t a bother, but if you stop to look at them for very long, they come right up looking for something to eat.

Mazatlan – Day 8

Posted on October 8, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

OK – I know – I said I wasn’t going to bother you again until we returned home, but I just couldn’t help myself. So, I’m back.

After eating lunch yesterday, we mosied back to our room, sat on the couch to rest a bit, and contemplate another trip to the pool, but the Denver vs. Dallas football game caught our attention because the score was 41-41 and held the promise of being fairly interesting. It was. Dallas drove for a touch down making it 48-41, then Denver turned around and did the same thing. It was 48-48. Denver kicked off, Dallas got intercepted, and Denver ran the clock down before kicking the winning field goal … 51-48. Looks like a Duck football score instead of a pro score. Now you’re up-to-date and know everything I know about that game, unless you watched the entire game in which case I’m sure you couldn’t care less about that info. Unless you’re a Dallas fan. Which I’m not.

When the game was over we hadn’t determined if we were going to the pool, or not, so just sat there a while longer … and both fell asleep. We remained in this state for an entire hour before one of us woke up and jiggled the couch.

By then it was after 5 pm and we decided to play some cribbage instead of go back to the pool. It was a bit rowdy down there, and I didn’t see Jim and Lourdes, so we were OK staying in. Cribbage was good. Diane whipped my ass. Twice. That made us 4 and 4, a good place to stop, even steven.

Then Diane broke out the 99 cent set of dominos she got at Good Will some time ago, and we discovered why it was donated after I won two rounds, lickity split, without having to draw from the pile. Diane cried ‘foul’ because during the last round she drew two double fours which would be OK if we had twice as many dominos as she brought. After a bit of investigation we determined that someone must have had a double set and just grabbed enough to fill a one-set box. So, I won two rounds, and we’ll never use those dominos again so I’m going home a winner!

During the Denver vs. Dallas game we discovered that we’re both a little punchy, like we’ve been up for a number of days. As we watched the game we played like announcers, ad-libbing what we thought the person of interest on camera, at any given moment, might be saying. It was funny and a vivid demonstration that we are ready to go home. Like, yesterday.

But, today is the day we leave.

I have to admit that I’m writing this Sunday night, so it really isn’t Day 8 yet, but I’m not sending this until tomorrow morning, so it should count.

Now I’m going to stop and finish watching the SF 49ers beat Houston. This will make Jeannie E. happy. Maybe some other folks, too.

I may add a little more to this tomorrow to let you know how well I sleep tonight. Probably not well because for supper I had a bag of imported microwave kettle corn, a Mexican Snickers candy bar, and two bags of gummy monsters. And a glass of water. Diane wasn’t pleased with my choices and I don’t blame her. I made terrible choices but it was all about eating this ‘stuff’ so we wouldn’t have to pack it and cart it back to Oregon. I mean, what’s the point?

Another factoid about this trip, and a testament to my ongoing efforts to save the environment, is that of the 8 pair of underwear I packed, I still have 4 clean ones. This means that I’ve gone four days without underwear. This will please Diane for two reasons: 1) less to wash upon arriving home, and 2) more clothes to wrap delicate things in for the trip.

Since that last period (.) a lot has happened. It’s now about 10 minutes to 6 pm and we are in LA waiting for our flight to Portland. We arrived here at 4:20, and it’s taken this long to make the incredibly long transit from out arrival gate, 69, through customs, retrieve the bag we checked in Mexico, re-check it for PDX, re-enter the secure, and go back to gate 67. All of that took 1 hour and 30 minutes. We walked down 4 or 5 amazingly long passageways during this process that took us full circle back to within 20 feet of where we started at 4:20. Now we must wait until 7:10 to board the last leg of this journey.

Prior to leaving Mazatlan, we had a bite to eat at the airport and visited with our new friends Jim and Lourdes. It’s always good to make new friends.

We’re tired and glad to almost be home.

Hope everyone is doing well.

Oh, by the way, the ‘food’ suitcase only weighed 46 lbs this time since it was only full of dirty clothes. Interesting that dirty clothes weigh almost as much as enough food to sustain two people for a week.